


An unlikely team

by Aurorealis



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Assassin's Creed Kink Meme, Gen, Kidnapping, Parents & Children, Rescue Missions, Rivalry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-20
Updated: 2013-03-14
Packaged: 2017-11-29 21:37:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/691722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurorealis/pseuds/Aurorealis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Connor is captured for ransom by an old enemy that should have been killed, Haytham isn't sure what to do. He can't in good conscience leave his son to his fate when he was captured in the middle of their truce. But he can't go to the templars for help either, despite being their leader. The only option he has left is one Achilles Davenport. Haytham would almost rather turn himself in than ask for help from that old man. Unfortunately, it's Connor on the line, and not himself. He's going to just have to deal with it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Intruder alert

**Author's Note:**

> Full prompt:  
> An old enemy from Haytham's past kidnaps Connor. (Or something, IDEK.)
> 
> Haytham finds out somehow (maybe a ransom note?) and realizes he can't rescue Connor by himself, but neither can he call upon his Templar lackeys for help for obvious reasons: Haytham should want Connor dead, because son or not, he is the Assassin that has mucked up all their plans. Also, his lackeys aren't all that competent as far as Haytham is concerned, and he wouldn't trust them with the important task of saving his son's life.
> 
> Haytham turns to the only person he can think of that would be willing to help him find Connor: Achilles. Because even though Achilles isn't very spry these days, he's still one devious BAMF.
> 
> Bonus Points:
> 
> -Lots of angry snark that slowly turns to teasing banter.
> 
> -Achilles and Haytham are both surprised to find out how well they work together. (As is Connor, when they finally get him back.)
> 
> -Achilles keeps calling Haytham "boy" and ordering him around. Haytham grudgingly goes along with it. (From what I understand, there's a 20+ age gap between them.)
> 
> -A recruit finds out and decides to help. Haytham and Achilles criticize their fighting/climbing/riding/whatever techniques behind their back.
> 
> -When they get Connor back, both Haytham and Achilles start freaking out on him, asking him why he wasn't more careful, how could he be so stupid and let someone get him, etc, etc. And Connor is all, "WTF?"

Achilles liked to think he was always prepared. If not that, he always at least looked prepared. It was one of the better ways to both unnerve ones opponents, and reassure ones allies. In this instance however, Achilles figured that no one could blame the surprise that crossed his face. He slammed the door in the intruder's face, both to shut the man out and as a protest to his fate. Why in God's name was Haytham Kenway on his doorstep? 

“Listen here, Davenport. You and I both know I could break in easily. I think it would be best for both of us if you would open your door and have a civilized discussion.” Right, Achilles had almost forgot how much he hated that man. Even if he wasn't a Templar, Achilles couldn't stand that snobbish, self confident twit. Kenway pounded on the door several times. Kenway was impatient too, despite his deliberating and articulate speech. 

“Are we really going to do this!? I'm obviously not here to kill you or your precious recruits, so hurry up and open the damn door!” 

“No. you listen, boy. I don't care what truces or alliances Connor has roped himself into, but I will not welcome a Templar into my home!” Achilles heard an angry grumble.

“If you would listen for a moment, I could explain to you that this is about Connor!” Kenway spoke like he was trying to be reasonable, but Achilles seethed.

“What have you done with Connor?” 

“I have done nothing! If you would just open up and let me explain-” Achilles cut him off. “I swear, Templar. If you've hurt the boy at all, I will rip out your heart in front of you. Blood relation or not, you've no right to betray a truce.” 

Kenway let out a mocking sniff, one Achilles could hear through the door. “As if you could, Davenport. I'd see you limping up from a mile away.” 

“I may be a cripple boy, but I am not weak. Do you think I lack fire arms? Or perhaps you believe my eyesight to be going as well.” 

“Stop calling me boy! I am just under 50 years old!” Achilles smirked, although no one else could see it. At least he could have some amusement in this situation, completely screwed as he was. Achilles wasn't an idiot, Kenway would go in through a window soon enough and they both knew who would win that battle. The least he could do was put up one hell of a fight. Maybe give him a cripple for whatever it is he did to Connor. Achilles refused to believe he was dead, perhaps just captured. 

“And yet, you still continue to be an annoying little brat. Only a selfish, cruel little boy would find it in them to back stab their own blood during a truce.”

“Oh, for the love of-” The pounding stopped, and from the tone of voice, Achilles imagined Kenway throwing his arms up in frustration. “I have done nothing to Connor! In fact, I have just found out that he's been captured by an enemy of mine!”

Well, that was strange. Achilles couldn't think of any reason for Kenway to say something like that. “Why in the world would you make up a lie so preposterous? Any enemy of yours would see to help Connor destroy you.”

“Maybe because I am not lying. I promise you that I have not harmed Connor at all, and in fact have come to you with a proposition. If you would just open that door so I can stop shouting it out for the world to hear?” Achilles couldn't help his intrigue just as he couldn't help his anger at Kenway's insolence. And although he wished dearly to feed his anger and shut the intruder out, Achilles wasn't dumb. That lie made absolutely no sense, and there was no benefit if Achilles were to believe him. Kenway could have him killed any day of the week, he wouldn't need this trickery. 

Perhaps, he could be lying in order to get Achilles help in destroying someone, but that made little sense either. The Templars were strongly equipped, and as a united force they certainly didn't need the help of their enemy that badly. And if it were a ploy to somehow get to Connor's recruits, well, it made little sense to target Achilles with their lives. Kenway would have just gone through Connor instead, naïve as the boy was that their truce could work. It didn't add up at all. Unless, Connor really had been captured by an enemy of Kenway's. With their truce going on, it would look to an outsider that they were on the same team. If Kenway was even remotely sentimental, which Achilles secretly suspected to be true, he would feel responsible and try to mount a rescue, if only to finish their truce activities. He wouldn't be able to use his Templar resources, as the other's wouldn't approve and Kenway couldn't have an uprising to deal with. That would leave him with only one course of action...

Achilles unlocked the door, cracking it open. “Get in here and explain yourself immediately and thoroughly. Keep your hands where I can see them.” He snapped, glaring at Kenway's surprise. The Templar looked out of sorts, his usually pristine hair in disarray, his clothes rumpled. Achilles attributed it to a lengthy, fast paced travel if the sound of a horse draining the water trough in the distance was any indication. Kenway paused to gather himself, straightening up and patting his coat down. 

“I knew you weren't so senile you couldn't listen to obvious reason. Really, I almost regret coming here. After all, you will hardly be able to help me if you can't comprehend the slightest amount of logic.” Still, for all his words, Kenway trod carefully into the house, hands out in front of him.

“Don't push yourself, boy. You are no longer in your prime, either.” Kenway snorted. “I am inclined to agree with you, although I must point out that I can still run circles around that dolt you call your student. Alas, that dolt is also my son and the reason I am here, regardless of how interesting it is to see you pretend to pose any sort of threat.” Achilles wanted desperately to strangle the man's throat. Instead, he led the templar to a small table, where they both sat carefully, neither glancing away from the other's eyes. 

“All right, you've had your fun in disrespecting your elders. Now spit it out, what exactly are you here for?”


	2. Blind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here we get to experience Connor's confusion for a bit. Could be considered filler.

Connor knew he had a lot to learn still. As confident as he sounded, and for all his training, Connor still lacked experience. He knew his weaknesses though, and thought he was at least sensible enough to get by. Apparently, that wasn't so. Clearly, he wasn't sensible enough to avoid capture by a curious group of street thugs. They weren't even guards. Haytham would no doubt have a good laugh at this, if he wasn't the one behind it.

Usually, Connor would immediately assume something like this to be Templar work. That didn't make a lot of sense, though. They had no need to capture him rather than kill him. Regrettably, the Templars knew that the assassins would topple again without Connor, so there was no need to get information from him. Not to mention, it would have been incredibly easy for Haytham to do this business himself since they were working together on a truce. Connor was certain that if he were going to break the truce, he would do it himself anyways. 

The only problem was, if they weren't Templars, who were they? The ambush was very well planned. Or, maybe it wasn't quite so well planned, but Connor was thrown off the scent because the homeless people who led him to the spot were absent of colour in his second sight, which made them a safely neutral group. They had wanted him to stop a massive brawl over a gold statue that several thieves were attempting to claim. Those men too were a faint red, almost colourless. From experience, Connor knew that meant that they didn't pose Connor or his ideals personally, but that they were more negative to him than positive. That was common for thieves, who were on some level, enemies to anyone who carried money.

Of course, as soon as Connor's attentions were focused on breaking apart two knife wielding men, many more jumped into the fray. Connor hadn't noticed it at the time, but they had to have been hiding behind walls or in haystacks. He had noticed however, when at least a dozen of these thieves that came from nowhere ganged up on him at once. Taken by surprise- he wasn't exactly expecting the teamwork, Connor was wrestled to the ground, one man for each limb. Finally, Connor had thought to use his eagle vision and revealed the fighters to be cherry red. They were men sent out specifically to catch him. 

By then, there wasn't anything Connor could do but snarl as a needle broke into his skin, and his muscles slowly relaxed against his will. They hadn't used a poison to make him sleep, possibly because it was too much work to worry about under or overdosing. A drug that turned his limbs into jelly was enough for them to restrain him with a mixture of rope and chains into an awkward hunched shape. Dirty cloth was used to gag and blindfold him, and he was thrown into the back of a wagon, covered by blankets and boxes. Then, he was left like that for hours, enough time for him to drift off and wake again with the poison worn off and the addition of several painful muscle cramps. That brought him to present time, where Connor was quickly realizing that the restraints were rather overkill. Even if he had his hidden blades, which had been removed when his face was forced into the ground, there was not even an inch worth of give. 

Still, Connor continued to struggle in between breaks to rest his limbs. He could feel rather than see the rawness of his ankles and wrists where rope or shackle rubbed against them. The lack of any way to sense time really did not help. All he had was the bumping of the floor as wagon wheels rolled over rough ground. That told him he was on the frontier, at least. If only the blindfold wasn't so thick, then Connor could at least know if the sun was up yet. It felt like days, but Connor knew how skewed the sense of time could get when there was no way to tell. All he knew was that he had been given the occasional sip of water and had been dragged outside a few times to relieve himself. That hadn't been fun, stuck in his hunched over position as he was. 

At this rate, Connor would be useless even if he did escape the ropes- all of his muscles screamed from the unwelcome and prolonged stretching. Especially so as he rocked back and forth, scraping with his knuckles and heels in an attempt to navigate the small space he was trapped in. he was boxed in by the wall of the wagon on one side, and heavy crates on the other three sides. He doubted the crates would hold anything he could use to escape, but Connor tried his best to open one anyway. The entire thing was just so premeditated, and it was if whoever planned his capture knew of the eagle vision. After all, it would be easier to hire people to pull of the brawl rather than somehow orchestrate the neutrals so they acted in such a way. But if they were hired to bring him over, they would have shown as red

For another unknown length of time, Connor struggled to open at least the nearest crate. If he could find the latch somehow, he might be able to use the metal to slice the ropes. That wouldn't help the shackles, but they were less restrictive than the ropes. With just shackles, he could probably move somewhat and take out guards if he was stealthy enough. Those thoughts were halted when the wagon stopped with a lurch. Connor fell to the floor from the motion, not bothering to pull himself back up. They only stopped to let Connor relieve himself, which meant he'd be dragged out soon enough. 

Instead of being immediately seized, Connor heard voices. This was different, not a single person had spoken this entire trip. He assumed it was to hide their identities somehow. The voices were quiet enough and the walls of the wagon thick enough that he couldn't make out words. It continued for a long moment, then the wagon began to move again, but at a much slower pace. Connor immediately felt the difference in the bumpiness of the road- they must be in a settlement or fort of some kind. His admittedly futile escape attempts were forgotten as he focused on the sounds around him. After a time, the wagon halted again. This time, he did hear his captors dismount. 

The sound of moving cloth was his only warning as Connor's arm was seized roughly. His body lurched out of the wagon, and he fell to the ground with a curse from the stranger holding him. Clearly the man had not expected Connor's weight. He was pulled across the ground a few feet, before the man evidently gave up. He heard a sword being drawn, and a pressure on the ropes around his legs. Then they were loose, and another hand pulled them off. As the ropes attaching legs to torso were removed, his body uncoiled immediately and Connor had to bite back a groan of pain. Said pain became worse as he was forced to his weak and unsteady feet. Now there were two men, one at each shoulder. They both supported his weight and forced him forward. Connor realized by now that it must have been at least a day's travel, probably more, for him to be unable to walk. 

He heard a large set of doors open ahead, and with a clang, close behind him. Now there was stone beneath his feet. That meant it most likely was not a fort. There were only a few that had large stone buildings in them, and he had liberated both of them for the patriots. Unless the patriots had betrayed him, which Connor would not consider without more evidence than a stone floor, he wasn't anywhere he could recognize. Someone's private property, perhaps?

Now he was being guided down stairs. This was bad, even though his legs were already gaining a little strength from the stretching, his arms were still completely restrained, and his eyes covered. If he resisted, they could simply push him down the stairs. With no arms to balance himself, he would surely break his neck. 

They continued to descend for a longer time than Connor expected. At the very least, that ruled out the forts he had seen with stone. None of them went so deep into the ground. Where could he be, though? This had to be a large building, for it to travel so deep. He would have seen or heard of it. There hadn't been much background chatter when he was in the wagon, other than the mumbling of his captors. Therefore his building could not be in a settlement, unless it was the dead of night. 

There were just too many unknowns, and Connor's head spun as he continued to think. He really hoped to have this blindfold and gag removed soon. He wanted to see the face of whoever organized this. They would pay once he made his inevitable escape. There would be some way to free himself, surely. 

Another door opened, this one made a smaller, scraping sound. A wooden door, then. One man left his shoulder to enter first, the second shoving Connor roughly before following. His shoulder clipped the door frame. A smaller door, which meant he was in a room, and not a passageway to somewhere else. His back was slammed into a wall, and as he was released, Connor fell on his bottom. There was a rustle of cloth and a jingle of metal. His ankles were released. Before he could attempt any sort of attack, different shackles were closed around the same place. Connor shifted his legs, realizing that these chains were attached to the floor of the room, which must be his cell as well. The same action was repeated with his arms, although now he was pulled into a standing position again. His arms now hung above his head, suspended by chains attached presumably to the roof, or maybe a higher point along the wall. At the very least, the ropes were undone. Connor flexed his arms finally, finding that they too were very sore. 

Finally, the gag was removed, allowing Connor to immediately begin coughing, mouth paper dry. The steps of his jailors receded, and the door shut loudly. The key turning in the lock was almost deafening in the absence of any other sound. Connor strained to listen to the faint footfalls as the men walked away, before sighing and pushing his head against the grimy stone wall. He clearly wasn't going anywhere just yet.

They could have at least removed the blindfold.


	3. Discussion

“So what you're saying is, Connor was ambushed in New York only two days ago? How do you know he didn't just run off? He does make a habit of unannounced hunting trips and visits to his village.” Achilles protested. He knew very well that Kenway wouldn't be here without a good reason, but it wouldn't do not to cover every base.

Kenway gave him a less than amused look. “Do you take me for an idiot? I wouldn't be here if I simply hadn't seen him around. As it happens, some of my lower ranking patrols stumbled across the ambush sight. Off the main paths, by the burned buildings. Lot's of broken bodies and blood, plus the local homeless people all gossiping about a brawl over some expensive trinket. Most accounts of the tale include a large unified group, not in any kind of uniform, that scattered the fight, seizing a man from the fight that wore clothes of a quality too high to be there in the first place.”

Achilles sighed. “That does sound like Connor. Still, you should have better proof than that.”   
“Well, what other idiot would involve himself in an unrelated fight between crazed civilians, and also be important enough for a planned capture like that?” Kenway reasoned. 

“Very well then. Why do you assume an old enemy to you? It could be either army, or someone that Connor has personally offended.” Kenway nodded at Achilles' words.   
“I thought you might ask,” Kenway said, digging into the satchel at his side. Soon, he procured a wrinkled envelope, and opened it neatly, laying the paper on the desk. “Just after the event, but several hours before I heard of it, this ransom note was left at my personal office.” Achilles immediately snatched the letter.

After a lengthy pause, Achilles looked up again. “This is a dangerous enemy of yours, indeed. He knows of the assassins and the templars, and that Connor and you are on different sides, yet he is clearly on neither. He knew of the truce, your blood relation, and that you would care enough to mount a rescue. Most worrying, he must know of your hereditary second sight. I don't think that threat about slicing out Connor's 'fancy' eyes was a coincidence.”

Kenway snorted. “I gathered that much. The problem is, I don't know who the culprit it. Obviously, he left a location, but that could be any kind of trap and if I could just find out who it was, I could plan to their weakness accordingly.” 

Achilles chuckled despite the situation. “You have no idea who it is? Just how badly do the templars leak information? I think I finally see something of a relation between you two, only Connor has the naivete of a young man.” Kenway scowled at that.  
“The list of living people who know of my abilities and connections to Connor and aren't completely and irrevocably dedicated to my cause are very few. None of them are in the New World. I would know if ant of them stepped foot on this land.”

“Clearly boy, you either overestimate your information network, or you overestimate your secrecy.”

“Don't be so quick to pin the blame all on me, old man. This enemy could just as easily have gotten the information from my son before planning the ambush. Connor isn't exactly discreet.”

“And yet,” Achilles countered, “if you truly thought that was a valid option, it would have been the first idea to be mentioned.” Kenway rolled his eyes at that, before shifting in his seat and flexing his fingers which were positioned carefully on the table. Immediately, the tone of the room had shifted, and it was time for business. Achilles cleared his throat, and studied the note again.

“Our enemy here is clearly confident. He asks for a large sum of money for the ransom, and it doesn't sound as if he expects you to bring anyone. Still, it would be safe to assume he expects a rescue mission of some form, and is just sounding overconfident as a ruse. He has to be at least moderately intelligent if he can stay off of your radar and know of your personal secrets, never mind his capturing of Connor, which had to have been well planned.”

Achilles half expected Kenway to pounce on his comments, perhaps ask what happened to the earlier insults about overestimation. Instead, he nodded, furrowing his eyebrows. “I gathered as much. The problem is that I am not overly familiar with the surrounding area of the note's location. That makes planning anything much harder.” 

“I can't say I've been in that area, either. It is too bad that Connor is the one being saved, he would know every nook and cranny, for all the hunting he does everywhere. Still, when we escape he may be able to provide assistance in that way, provided that he's not... incapacitated.” Achilles wavered slightly at the last word, suddenly remembering the letter's threat about eyes. The image of a screaming Connor, blood gushing from ruined eye sockets, invaded his mind. 

“That is unfortunate. Before we plan any further, I must ask: Just how much aid are you able to give on this mission?” Kenway spared no feelings. Achilles wanted to take offense, but this was just plain practicality now, no explicit insult intended. It was an honest, blunt question that Achilles would have to asnwer in the same fashion. After all, he couldn't let himself lose his temper over nothing while the boy remained cool and level.

“I won't be able to kill with an adequate amount of grace or stealth, but I can still fight if that's what you were wondering. The best course of action would most likely be for you to take care of the outside guards. When we are inside the building, any guards will be forced close enough that my limp will not significantly hinder me. It may be in our best interests to bring along one or two of the recruits on this venture, although not many of them would be ready for this level of difficulty.” Achilles had to bite his pride at that, admitting that he would not be capable of rescuing Connor on his own. Speaking of whom, that boy would be receiving a talk when all of this was done. He had a lot of making up to do for forcing Achilles into working with the templar grandmaster of all people.

“I hope you've got some competent ones hiding up your sleeve. I have seen some of those recruits on their little missions, and I cannot say I'm impressed.”

Achilles sighed. He knew it was an insult to the Assassin order, but... “You would not be the only one. I knew it was stupid of Connor to go and recruit five at once. He does not have the time to mentor them all, and I said I wasn't going to have a part in it.” Kenway chuckled at that, and Achilles had to mentally berate himself. It wouldn't do to be so self deprecating in front of his enemy. 

Both men started as the sound of door knocking filled the air.  
“Achilles! Open up, this is urgent!” Achilles groaned, wiping his brow with a hand. “Stephane, Connor's first recruit. He probably would have been my choice anyways. This makes it easier at least, I can't imagine he'd be here for any other reason than that he heard of Connor.” Kenway agreed, standing up along with Achilles. 

“Where would you have me stand? I can not imagine you want me to be seen right away, to avoid complications.” 

“Just stay here, and don't touch anything. Try to look non-threatening if at all possible. He's going to find out soon anyways, and I'd rather he didn't see you skulking around in hiding.” Achilles said, glancing at the door again irritably as Stephane kept banging and shouting. It seemed that most assassins and templars alike had little regard for patience. Kenway shrugged and sat back down fluidly.

Achilles marched to the entrance, hoping that Stephane would at least allow him to get a word in edgewise before clamoring into the kitchen. Knowing the man's temper though, Achilles didn't hold his hoped up.

“I'm coming, stop that racket.” Achilles exclaimed, throwing the door open. 

“Connor's been captured by someone! We don't know who!” 

“I kno-” Achilles began, before he realized that it was Clipper who had spoken, not Stephane. He glared into space as he realized that there was a trio of recruits in front of him, not just one. Stephane, Clipper, and Dobby. 

“Well, this just made things more complicated” Achilles just knew someone was out to get him.


End file.
